


The First Nightmare

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, human!Cas, naomi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the vague and unspecified events of the Season 8 finale, everyone survives, but Cas is now human, and that night, he experiences his first nightmare. Dean comes to the rescue, and comfort and cuddling ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Skip to the end for the majority of cuddling. I think the build-up is quite nice, though.

Dean’s eyes flick to the rear view mirror, catching Castiel as his mouth squirms in confusion and opens in a yawn. He catches Dean’s eyes.

“Is- is that normal?” Castiel asks. 

“Don’t worry, Cas. It just means you’re tired.” Dean isn’t exactly sure how to feel about Cas becoming human. In a way, he’s relieved. Now, Cas can finally relate to him and he won’t be able to fly off at any second. On the other hand, Dean knows it must be hard for Cas, to feel so vulnerable and weak without his powers. He’s going to need as much help as he can get in the coming weeks. ”We’re about another hour out so feel free to follow Sammy’s lead.” 

Sam is passed out in the front seat, exhausted but finallyhealing from the trials. Dean can hardly believe they survived - not that he’s complaining. He’ll take any miracle he can get, especially since Cas is fresh out - permanently. The ex-angel glances at Sam and copies his positioning, letting his eyes flutter shut and his body drift out of consciousness. Dean takes advantage of the situation to glance at Cas’s reflection in the mirror every so often, sometimes just to makes sure he’s still there. Once the sound of wings echoes in the back of his mind, but when his turns around, Cas is still there. Hopefully, there to stay.

*   *   *

Dean nudges Sam, who grunts reluctantly. ”Rise and shine, Sammy!” Sam sits up with an unamused glare.

“Dean, you promised to never say that again.”

“Don’t worry, it’s only Friday. C’mon we’re home.” As Sam climbs out of the car, Dean turns to face the back seat. “Cas-” The angel sleeps on. Dean tosses a cassette tape at him and raises his voice “ **Cas, we’re here.** ” No response. Dean rolls his eyes, climbing out the car with a sigh. Walking around to the other side, he opens the car door and gently shakes a trench-coated shoulder. Still nothing. Dean wonders if it has to do with Castiel’s vessel. After all, the body, itself, hadn’t slept in… how long had it been? Seven years? Maybe it was trying to make up for lost time. 

For a moment, Dean almost considers leaving Cas to sleep in the Impala, but he quickly shakes the thought away. Cas has been through too much, has  _sacrificed_ too much today to spend his first night as a human in the backseat of a car. He deserves some proper rest. Hesitantly, Dean reaches into the car, placing one arm behind Castiel’s back and the other beneath his knees, and carefully lifts Cas out of the backseat. He’s actually lighter than Dean expects - perhaps because Castiel carries a weight with him that isn’t exactly physical - so carrying him into the bunker should be relatively easy. Easier, at least, than carrying Sam into an ice bath had been.

Shutting the car door with his foot, Dean walks into the bunker, trying to ignore Sam’s inquisitive look as he passes “Uh-“

“Shut up.” He mutters, defensively.

One of the few problems of having a brother like Sam, is it’s practically impossible to hide things from him. It’s clear he already knows - or at least suspects - how Dean feels about Cas. In fact, he might have known before Dean knew himself. Maybe now that their lives were a little simpler and safer, Dean would allow himself to open up to Sam, but not tonight. Tonight he just wants to sleep.

Dean walks up the stairs slowly and gingerly. The last thing he needs is a pair of sleepy, affectionate, and confused blue eyes staring up at him, or a warm, gravely, and tired voice meeting his ears, but fortunately Cas sleeps on. His room is directly to the left of Dean’s, almost identical in design and furnishings, but lacking in anything to make it his own, aside from a few blood stains on the floor. He lays Cas down and pulls off his shoes, tossing them to the side of the room. Dean’s tired and ready to practically fall into bed, but for a few minutes, he can’t help but stay. Maybe it’s creepy to watch someone while they sleep, but Cas has done it enough times to earn reciprocation. He’s exceedingly handsome, and attractive to an extent that Dean isn’t comfortable admitting, even to himself. There have been times when… _urges_ rose in him, sometimes stronger than he’d ever felt before, but he’s always held them back. Everything’s just been… too complicated. 

Cas shifts in his sleep and Dean quietly retreats with a flick of the light switch. Entering the next room, he runs a hand through his hair and yawns. The jacket comes off, the shoes come off, a shirt comes off. There’s mud and blood caked to his jeans, so those come off too, replaced by a pair of shorts, black like his t-shirt. In the process, Dean bumps into the nightstand, causing the picture of Mary to fall forward. He picks it up gingerly, starring at his mother with a bitter-sweet smile.

“We did it, mom. We locked ‘em all up.” His mother smiles back like she always has, her eyes bright, and blue and wise. They remind him of Cas’s. They couldn’t have done it without him. In fact, without him, he and Sam would be long dead. “I guess you were right, an angel is watching over us…” He smiles and sets the photo back into place, before pulling the lamp cord and falling back into bed.

*   *   *

“No… **No! PLEASE!! Naomi, STOP!** “ Castiel begs, twisting and writhing and crying in his sleep. Startled by the yelling, Dean wakes and jumps out of bed, rushing to Cas in panic. The nightmare has him in a cold sweat and gripping the sheets in fear.

“Cas! Hey-” Dean shakes him by the shoulders. “ **CAS! Wake up!** ”

“I’m sorry…  _I’m so sorry_ -” he whimpers. Dean shakes harder, yells louder, even slaps Castiel once, but it only scares him more, adding to the nightmare and the cries of pain that come with it. The vehement attempts to wake Castiel are useless, so Dean changes tactics. He sits Cas up and holds him from behind, his arms wrapping protectively around his waist, as he whispers soothing words into his ear.

 _“It’s okay, Cas. I’ve got you. I’m here.”_ Castiel stops yelling and his body stops squirming, but the whimpering continues. Dean gently rocks him back and forth, as the words continue:  _“Hey- hey, shh…it’s just a dream, Cas. You’re okay. Wake up, now… C’mon, Cas, wake up-“_ But still his eyes remain shut. He rocks him some more and then, without really thinking, Dean kisses the skin behind Castiel’s ear, and the warmth brings the whimpering to a stop. A shaky voice follows.

“ _Dean_?” 

Dean sheepishly loosens his hold on Castiel, pulling his arms out, and placing a hand on his back. “Ar- are you okay?” Cas turns to look at Dean, his legs now hanging over the side of them bed. His face is tight with fear and anguish and his eyes can’t even meet Dean’s for more than a second. Clearly, he’s  _not_ okay. “Cas, what happened?”

Cas stares at the floor, his fingers gripping the sheets at the edge of the bed with white knuckles. After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “Naomi- she was… I was having flashbacks of her torture and… training.”

“…what training?” Cas remains silent. “Cas-“

“ _Dean_ …I’d rather not talk about it.”

Dean turns to the side, matching Castiel’s position, and folds his hands. “I’m sorry, man… but you’ve got to. If anyone knows the consequences of bottling up pain, it’s me… You can’t keep this stuff to yourself.”

Cas glances up at Dean with wariness in his eyes, then he looks to the floor again and sighs. Finally, his thoughts gather and form into words: “In the crypt, Naomi ordered me to kill you… but before that, she uh-” Castiel clasps his hands together anxiously. “She made me practice.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow in a mixture of confusion and concern as he continues, “Like Gabriel, Naomi could manipulate reality… She created copies of you - not replicas exactly - but they were close enough to make it realistic. I had to  _kill_  all of them… there were thousands.” After that, it’s silent.

Dean lets his eyes fall shut. He can’t imagine what it would be like, having to kill Cas… let alone having to kill him a thousand times. The very idea reminds him of Hell’s torture, how it didn’t end until you agreed to be a part of it. But the thing is, Cas  _didn’t_ agree to be a part of this. He was  _forced_ to, and even still, somehow… he managed to stop. Dean looks up, placing his own hand on Castiel’s.  “But you didn’t kill  _me_.”

“But I could have. And I almost did, Dean! I beat you to a pulp! Only Lucifer’s done worse to you than what I did that day, and you didn’t even fight back-” Cas chokes. His eyes close and he shakes his head “Why didn’t you fight back?”

Dean bites his lip and squeezes Castiel’s hand. Now tears are brimming at his own eyes. “I couldn’t-”

Cas looks up and for the first time that night, their gaze holds. There’s a question in those blue eyes – one Dean isn’t sure how to answer. Maybe they should wait and have this conversation in the morning… “You-” Dean tilts his head forward “need to get some rest.” He pulls him by the hand towards the door, and Castiel follows reluctantly.

“Wha- Dean, where are we going?”

“To get you some proper sleep clothes. C’mon, I’ve got some extras.” Dean leads him into his room, still holding his hand (it just felt too nice to let go). He opens a dresser drawer and pulls out a gray t-shirt and another pair of black shorts. “Here, go ahead and change. I’ll be right back.” Dean makes his way down the stairs, and walks into the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he starts searching through the plastic bottles for anxiety medication and sleeping aids, but something stops him. Memories of his journey to 2014 and the drug-dependent Cas he’d met bring him to close the cabinet and settle for a glass of water. And walking back into the bedroom, he almost spills it.

            Dean hasn’t seen Cas in much besides his suit and trench coat, so to see him in shorts and an fitted t-shirt startles him, even if he knew to expect it. Not only that, but Cas is sitting, Indian style,  square in the middle of Dean’s bed. “Uh, here…” Dean hands Cas the water, and he takes it gratefully. As Cas drinks thirstily, Dean leans back against the door frame. “Think you’ll sleep okay?”

Cas slowly lowers the glass from his lips and his gaze follows. His nimble fingers play with it distractedly, as he replies “I doubt I’ll sleep at all.”

Dean steps forward, gently taking the empty glass from him and setting it on the desk.

“If you want-” he phrases the question carefully, “you can stay in here tonight… so you’re not alone.”

Cas looks up and blue eyes meet green with a soft smile. “I’d like that.”

*   *   *

Dean turns off the lights and everything disappears in the darkness. But he knows the room. He walks to the right side and climbs lazily into bed as Castiel burrows beneath the covers. Dean had forgotten the warmth that comes with sharing a bed. Their legs touch, just for a moment, and Dean flinches at the feeling of skin. He wants to feel more – not in a lustful way – just as a means of comfort, and Cas surprises him by edging closer, his arm and chest gently pushing into Dean’s side. Dean chuckles softly, “You don’t have to be shy, Cas. I don’t mind.” and he can almost see the angel smiling in the darkness. Cas rest his head at the top of Dean’s chest, just beneath his chin, and lets an arm fall across his stomach. In return, Dean wraps his right arm around him, pulling him closer, and somewhere along the way, their legs overlap. The warmth of touch in their tangled bodies brings a sense of security and kindled affection, and Dean smiles as Cas’s dark hair brushes against his neck.

“Dean?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think I can sleep in here tomorrow night too… just in case I have another nightmare?”

“Of course, Cas.”

_Every night after that, Cas asks the same question. And Dean gives the same reply._


End file.
